


Judge, Jury, Executioner

by orphan_account



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Kryptonite, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, Seduction, sex in costume
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bruce discovers Superman's secret identity and decides to teach the "god" a lesson. [Strictly in the Batman v. Superman universe.]





	Judge, Jury, Executioner

Bruce had to do something before this whole thing got out of hand. That... alien had been masquerading as a hero for months now. Bruce knew the truth though. He was there that day in Metropolis. He saw the death and wanton destruction that that power blasted madman brought with him. Carelessly knocking over buildings and flying past the thousands of cries for help as if he couldn't hear them. Despicable.

If Bruce had that kind of power he could clean up this city... no... this world for good. He could make Batman his full time job without need for sleep, eating, or exercise. As it was, Superman couldn't be trusted with that power. He destroyed at least two cities and downed a military grade drone.

That of course wasn't on any civilian record, but Bruce had his ways. Superman was a ticking time bomb that could destroy the world entire if he ever had a bad enough day. Bruce knew more than anyone what one bad day could do to a man. Superman had to be stopped, but how? Bruce couldn't kill him. There had to be a better way.

* * *

  
Bruce had to find him. He took recorded images of the alien from his cowl and started a search on his computer. The algorithm would search the faces in its database compiled from criminal records, newspaper articles, google image results, security cameras and the like. Unless the man wore a different face in the day time he would get a match eventually.

Bruce left the program running for days until it finally alerted him of a possible match. He had come back from patrol to the screen lit up, picture enhanced and stretched across the screen. It was him. He was caught on a street side security camera. He leaned, slightly hunched against the wall outside of a coffee shop wearing a thrift shop blazer a size or two too big. He was cleaning a thick pair of glasses with his shirt, leaving his naked face clear to the camera. So that's how he did it. So juvenile.

Bruce input the new face into the search and quickly photoshopped together an image with his clear Superman photo wearing a thick pair of glasses. The results came back instantly. Clark Kent, up and coming reporter for the Daily Planet. It would be laughably easy for Bruce Wayne to lure in a reporter and the plan was set in motion.

* * *

 

Bruce Wayne announced a charity dinner at Wayne Manor to benefit sustainable farming. It was a bit obscure, not one of his usual causes, but he figured it would turn the right head. It was a hit with his vegan "friends" and they championed the night to get the turnout high. 

Bruce milled around the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of his conquest. Any event at Wayne Manor had a huge paparazzi draw so there was a screening process in place to keep them manageable. He had instructed the bouncer to let in anyone from the Daily Planet and sure enough the figure of Clark Kent walked meekly forward.

Bruce had seen the man before, but now it seemed so obvious who he really was. The only thing between him and Superman was a costume and change of posture. Bruce brought a hand to slide against the lead lined box in his pocket. Everything was falling into place.

After a concise speech and a toast the dinner commenced. It wasn't so formal. Most people chattered about, leaning against a table or by the bar. Bruce talked in a large group of droning, dull headed philanthropists. Bruce's easy smile hid his disinterest and wandering eyes. He was keeping an eye on Kent who clearly was waiting for his opportunity to get Bruce alone for a question. Bruce was more than happy to give it to him, excusing himself from the group and heading toward the buffet Kent was standing by.

Kent stood up straighter and adjusted his glasses.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne? Clark Kent for the Daily Planet I'd like to-"

"Ah, Clark! I'm familiar with your work!" Bruce shook Kent's offered hand and smiled easily at him, catching him off guard.

"Oh, really?"

"That op-ed on that Batman really had me thinking. What is that guy wearing a mask for? If he's doing so much good why hide his face?" Bruce took a flight of champagne off the table. "Drink?"

"Oh, thank you... on both accounts." Kent took the glass gingerly. "I'm flattered you remembered me."

"How could I forget a face like that?"

The line came out casually. Bruce saw Kents face color in his periphery as he grabbed himself a drink.

"So what were you going to ask me, Clark?"

"I... wanted to inquire about your sudden interest in-"

As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the music grew louder. A group of women nearby chattered and laughed louder to be heard. Soon the whole hall was babbling over the music and Kent was drowned out entirely. Bruce could see the discouragement on his face, he clearly felt the billionaire would leave him in the excitement. Instead, Bruce grabbed his arm and leant into his ear.

"Let’s go somewhere quieter, shall we?"

Bruce didn't wait for a response and strode out of the room. He heard Kent padding along dutifully behind him as he led him to a quite study. The room was mostly for show. The only seating was a red couch that faced a smoldering fire place. Bruce closed the door gently, blocking out the music until it was a dull distant base.

"I couldn't hear myself think in there!"

Bruce made a show of carding his hands through his hair and taking a long swig of champagne before encouraging Kent to sit down. Bruce sat down beside him, arm slung casually across the back. Kent sat reserved, legs close together, almost avoiding Bruce's glance.

"So let's hear it."

Bruce finished off his drink and put it next to the glass on the coffee table that Kent hadn't touched beyond carrying it.

"This benefit.. why the sudden interest in the farming industry? It's not exactly local."

Kent's eyes wandered to watch Bruce loosen his tie, exposing more of his neck.

"I saw a documentary, got me on a whole fad diet and I thought to myself, Bruce, you've got a chance to make a real difference here. I try to help out where I can, you know?"

Bruce shifted closer to Kent. Their knees bumped. Kent jumped slightly, but didn't pull away.

"Now can I ask you something?"

"Uh, of course, Mr.Wayne."

"Why is it they don't put a face like yours on prime time?"

"...I'm sorry?"

"You've certainly got the looks for it. I wouldn't mind hearing about a homicide or two if it was said with that sweet little drawl you have going on."

"I-"

"You wouldn't even have to clean up that much. I've got a tailor that could work wonders with your figure."

Bruce tugged at Kent's lapel, making sure to 'accidentally' brush his fingers against his chest. Kent cleared his throat.

"Mr Wayne shouldn't we get back to-" Bruce placed a hand on Kent's thigh lightly making his breath hitch. "...the party..." Bruce pushed down and rubbed a small circle with his palm. Kent's eyes were laser focused on its rotation.

"Is that really all you want, Clark?"

Bruce moved his hand to cup the bulge forming in Kent's pants. Kent exhaled shakily, walls coming down before Bruce's half lidded gaze.

"What do you want, Clark?"

Bruce kneaded the growing member and loomed further over the man.

"...more."

Bruce surged forward, locking their mouths together. Kent gasped, letting Bruce's tongue gain access. Bruce deftly undid Kent's belt and pants, tugging down his briefs to release his fully hard cock at last. Bruce glanced down, almost surprised he lacked something more alien. He started to stroke it before he could let the improbability of an alien species having entirely human biology get in the way of his goal. He filed it away for later and stroked in earnest, eliciting moans from Kent.

Bruce bit and tugged on Kent's lower lip harder than necessary, knowing full well he could get away with it. Kent was loving it, leaning into the playboy's touch and rocking his hips up to meet the quickening strokes. Bruce's mouth moved to suck and bite at his neck. Kent's moans came in earnest, no longer stifled by Bruce's tongue. Bruce revelled in every gasp and shudder he pulled out of him.

"Ah-I'm-"

Bruce hushed him, nose dragging up the side of his face until he bit and laved at the junction between his jaw and neck. Kent let out a low moan and shook with his release, gripping Bruce's shoulders. Bruce stroked him lazily through his climax, catching as much of the cum as he could in his palm. Bruce brought the soiled hand up to his mouth and licked himself clean, all the while locking eyes with Kent. Kent watched, jaw slack and Bruce saw the decision be made behind his eyes.

Kent was suddenly kneeling in front of Bruce, eyes focused, clever fingers going for Bruce's belt. Bruce scooted forward on the couch, encouraging him. Soon his aching dick was free and Kent's mouth surrounded him. He grabbed at his dark curls, pulling him closer without any resistance. His lips hit the base of his dick, taking the whole length of him before drawing back and sucking the head.

Bruce hadn't expected him to be so eager and he thrilled at it, this would be easier than he could have ever hoped for. Kent's glasses slid further down his nose with each bob of his head. His gaze flicked up to lock with Bruce and he swallowed, the head of Bruce's cock bounced off the back of his throat. Bruce gasped, seeing Superman's mouth stretched around his cock, on his knees for him. Kent swallowed again and Bruce shuddered and came with Clark's name on his lips. Kent swallowed down the whole of it, looking pleased with himself.

Bruce grabbed the lead lined box and took out its contents quick as a whip. Grip still in Kent’s hair he pressed the cloth over his mouth and nose. Kent's eyes widened impossibly. He struggled to get up and away, but Bruce's grip was vice-like and the effects of the kryptonite-chloroform mixture were practically instant. Kent's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he went limp.

Bruce let him collapse onto the floor as he got his pants back in order. He got the other item from the box, a thin anklet with a glowing green stone and quickly latched it around the unconscious alien's ankle. Bruce rolled him on to his back. He looked at his work. He laughed under his breath. Surely a god could not be taken down so easily.

* * *

  
Clark woke up groggy, head pounding, and arms shaking. He felt... sick, a foreign experience. His back was cold, pressed against metal. He came to full attention, jarred, realizing he was completely naked and hanging from the ceiling by his arms. He righted his feet, taking the weight off his shoulders which creaked at the slight break. He looked around but he was submerged in complete darkness. He had never known the dark like this.

His breath came fast and shallow. His ankle ached and he shook his foot to discover something was attached to him, but had no idea of telling what. Clark was properly terrified.

"Sweet dreams, Superman?"

The low gravel whispered near his ear. The presence had come so silently. Clark would have jumped a foot if not for his binds.

"What is this?!" Clark shook his restraints and looked wildly around the dark.

"Your new home."

Clark cried out as two harsh blue lights in front of his face blinded him temporarily. He blinked and the afterimage of the eyes trailed across his vision. He finally saw the source, Batman's illuminated cowl. He didn't remember the man looking so big, but the dark of his suit seemed to stretch out into the abyss forever.

"You can't keep me here. It's not possible."

Clark tried to pull apart the chains again, straining until he could no more. He was exhausted. He glared at his captor, trying to meet his eyes but finding it impossible with the headlights where they were. How did the man even see through them?

"Seems to be holding out fine."

"What's your plan then?"

"You'll learn soon enough."

"Bastard."

Batman slammed his gauntlet into the side of Clark's face in a slap. His head lolled to the side, ears ringing and sweat tinged hair falling into his stinging eyes.

Batman reached out to adjust something on the wall. The chains holding Clark up abruptly gave out some slack. His knees cracked against the floor and Clark gasped at the pain of it. A gauntleted hand pulled his face roughly up towards the light. Clark squinted and strained away.

“How about I teach you some humility.”

Batman’s eye lights flicked off and Clark was plunged into darkness once again. He couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat hammering. Suddenly, a hand was on his neck, slamming his face down into the floor. He yelled in surprise and pain. Everything felt so intense despite the dulling of his supernatural senses. He tried to steady his breathing, but found it futile when the hand dragged roughly down his spine and towards his exposed ass. He was really going to-

He shuddered when a cool liquid ran between his cheeks. Batman’s finger soon followed, rubbing slow circles around his hole.

“Fuck you.”

Batman’s hand went around his neck and tightened for a moment. He finally pushed in a lubed armored finger into his hole. Clark grunted at the slight pain. Batman took his time, pressing in teasingly. Easing in knuckle by knuckle. Clark almost found the sensation pleasurable and kept his mouth closed, not wanting his breathing to betray him.

The finger finally found his prostate and he couldn’t help but groan. Batman smirked and continued to prod solely at his most sensitive part. Clark was starting to harden and blush.

“What are you waiting for?” Clark shifted uncomfortably.

Batman leaned over him, trapping his bound hands under his armored chest. His breath puffed hot on his ear and Clark shivered.

“Beg for it.”

“You-” Clark’s breath hitched as he prodded hard against his prostate. “Can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

Clark felt like he’d go insane if he was teased any longer, he gulped and his hard dick bounced against his belly.

“Please.”

Clark gasped as he finally added another gauntleted finger. They scissored inside him, stretching. He rocked his hips up into them and soon a third digit was added. Batman continued fucking him with his fingers, again hitting his prostate hard on each thrust. Clark whimpered as the process continued far past the point necessary to prep him. It wasn’t enough.

“More.”

“Speak up.”

“Just put your dick in me already, asshole!”

Batman tugged Clark’s head off the floor by his hair, craning his back and neck in an awkward angle.

“You talk to your mother with that mouth, Clark?”

Clark breathed harshly, his dick throbbing.

“How about your daddy?” Clark could hear the smug smile in his voice. Batman took his fingers out of Clark’s ass and slapped him across the cheeks. Clark cried out.

“No!”

Batman slapped him again, harder, and Clark’s dick leaked with precum.

“Then what do we say?”

“I’m sorry...” Clark croaked.

Batman hit him a third time, making sure it would bruise. Clark shouted.

“What was that?”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

Batman smoothed his hand against the red marks on his ass.

“Good. Now what was it you wanted?” He unlatched the codpiece on his suit, his girth springing forward.

“I… wanted you to fuck me… please.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Batman thrust into Clark’s waiting hole, burying himself to the hilt. Clark cried out.

Bruce was thoroughly enjoying himself. He brought himself in and out of Clark at a snail’s pace. Delighting in how the man rocked into him urgently and groaned.

Clark felt he was enjoying himself too much, but he could be embarrassed later, for now he just needed the jerk to go faster.

“Fuck me harder… please.”

“Are you sure, Clark?”

“You’re not going to break me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Batman fucked into him, letting his balls slap sickeningly against Clark’s ass with each thrust. Clark’s want surged and he let out a sound of pleasure with every deep thrust.

Batman let go of Clark’s hair, letting his face hit the ground and deepening the angle of his cock. Clark only moaned in response, panting.

“One would almost think you liked this, _Superman_.”

Clark came without being touched. Batman continued to slam into him until he too released with a grunt. He pulled out of him slowly, wiping the head of his dick on the bruising he gave him earlier.

Clark was spent. He gasped against the ground and felt something slot into his entrance, blocking the cum from leaving. He was too tired to care.

Before he could let sleep take him, he heard a button on the wall pressed and the chain on his arms yanked him upward, forcing him to stand. He swayed on the chain feeling like a fish on a line. Batman’s lights flicked on right in front of his face and he winced away.

“I’ll be back for you later.”

Clark found his footing, letting most of his weight be supported by the chain was making his shoulders ache. Batman looked him up and down.

“...Do you eat?”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Then you’ll have something to look forward to.”

And with that the lights blinked off and Clark was cast into darkness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I leave you with this thought: battplugs.  
> Thank you.


End file.
